During your day, there are probably a half a dozen moments where you can’t see, if only for a split second. Not like blinking, of course, that’s far too quick. Just that moment when you’re taking off your shirt, or wiping your face with a towel. That brief instant where you’re plunged into darkness.
Every time this occurs, you’re playing roulette. A game. Unbeknownst to you, of course. Every time that happens there is something waiting, eagerly, to pull you into that darkness. That only happens if you lose, of course. One day you might open your eyes to find that you’re not where you were before. There are unsolved missing person cases every week. Those people?